May to December
by Mysterious Storyteller
Summary: It wasn't supposed to happen, none of it was, but it had. They didn't know what it was, what it meant. All they knew was they wouldn't change it for anything. A series of shorts pertaining to the given characters and a unique relationship.
1. Three Seconds

May To December

(A/N: I'm back. Just a Book went over better than expected, so I figured why not? I'm sick today, I had nothing better to do, so here's the beginning four shorts in what will probably be an ongoing project. Enjoy.)

Three Seconds

_Episode: The Elevator_

It took him three seconds to process what had happened after he saved the girls from plunging to their deaths in the elevator. One to realize they had bent him over backwards and were peppering his face with kisses. Two for him to realize that, though Clover and Alex's pecks were numerous, he had only felt Sam's lips four times. Three to realize that they had stopped; and that the _reason_ he had only felt Sam's lips four times, was because they hadn't been pecks... One on his chin, another on the left corner of his mouth, a third on the right corner, and the fourth placed gently, directly, on his lips. It took an extra second to shake the realization off, and weeks for him to get over it. Her lips were the last to leave his face.


	2. Mistake

May To December

Mistake

_Episode: Evil Valentine's Day_

When she had confronted him in his home after the wedding, he had been pleasantly surprised, had hoped she'd finally come around to Myrna. He was wrong. Very, very, wrong. She was trying to warn him, she was worried, and at first he laughed it off. But she was so persistent. Never had Sam been so determined. So as to actually come to his _house_? And in that moment he knew he would hear what she had to say; rather _would_ have. Myrna had come in and sent him out. He'd left Sam alone with that woman, and he'd felt from that moment on, even now, that he'd made a huge mistake that day. He wished Sam would tell him what it had been, what had happened between the two women. He started on realizing the _reason_ he wanted to know. He wanted to avenge his spy, to deal with her attacker accordingly, and to beg for her forgiveness if need be. Strange, that last point. He'd never begged before in his _life_.


	3. Jealousy

May To December

Jealousy

_Episode: Evil Valentine's Day_

She wasn't jealous. Not of Myrna Beesbottom, not of Jerry Lewis. That would just be too weird. _Wouldn't_ it? It certainly hadn't been jealousy that drove her to defy Myrna, to reject Jerry's declaration of marriage. It hadn't been anger and jealousy in her eyes as she watched the wedding proceedings. Worry, maybe, not jealousy… Okay, maybe there had been jealousy, but hey, he was like a father to her. What girl _wouldn't_ be jealous and worried over the situation? He was like a father to her…Why did that sound like a lie to her own ears? He'd told them they were like daughters to him on numerous occasions. At least, that was how she interpreted it… What she hated to realize, though, was that yes, each time had flattered her, but at the same time, every word had struck something inside of her without fail. Something she didn't want to address. Perhaps it _had_ been jealousy that drove her to confront him at his home. Perhaps it _had_ been jealousy that sparked in her eyes not only that day, but many other times. Perhaps it _was_ jealousy that was driving her to deny and be suspicious of Myrna, to hunt her down like a dog for hurting her boss. How _dare_ she hurt Jerry? How dare she even _try_! Yes, it was jealousy, but just a little, right?


	4. Wrong

May To December

(A/N: Last one I have written up. Not sure when the next update will be or if there will be one. It depends, I suppose.)

Wrong

_Episode: Numerous episodes throughout the series including-The New Jerry, Evil Valentine's Day, S.P.I., Alex Gets Schooled, Evil Promotion Much, and more._

It was wrong, just wrong. This whole predicament she found herself in was just wrong. They were boss employee. They were family. They were perceived like father and daughter. She was more than half his age… They why did it seem so right? Why didn't she stop or leave or _something_? She tried to tell herself it was all right, that in the olden days people of a bigger age difference than she and him had wed, been happy, been accepted… But this was not the olden days. This was the twenty-first century, and this whatever it was, was wrong, seen as wrong, as disgusting, as perverted. But she found she didn't care. This thing inside of her had driven her to protect him; from himself _and_ others. It had driven her to forgive him so many times, to mourn him, to rescue him, to save him from plunging to his death during his wedding. It had driven her to guard him from Myrna, to prevent Clover from turning him out when he'd needed a place to stay, to forgive him for practically destroying their Villa. It drove her to mourn him when they'd thought he'd died, to mourn him whenever they feared they would have to leave him and Woohp behind or thought they'd lose him. No, scratch all the 'we's' and put just 'her' in their place. It was this thing that drove her to save him from Tim Scam even after he'd driven them crazy, to kiss him when he saved them. This thing inside of her that had driven her to… to love him. It was wrong, just wrong. So wrong. But oh how she wanted it to be right; even just to be.


	5. Threatened

May To December

Threatened

_Episode: Totally Busted, Totally Mystery Much, Spies Versus Spies_

She had never felt threatened before. Not, that is, until her mother had made the spy scene. Not in the way that she'd felt when the missing spy team had come back and Jerry had fired them; oh, no, not that kind of threatened. This was a different kind. She'd never felt threatened in the way _he_ viewed her… There had been others who could have potentially threatened her in this regard. There was M.O.M from The Centre, for instance. There had obviously been _something_ there between her boss and Martin's. But she had never really thought much of it. Myrna Beesbottom? Okay, that was a little closer, but she'd known from the start something was off. Nothing like with this. She'd been shocked when Jerry had announced their mothers had been accepted as full time spies. For the first time, she felt threatened. It _shouldn't_ have threatened her. Her mother didn't even remember his _name_ half the time. But it was all too present. After all, her mother looked so much like her, even acted like her to a degree. Most importantly, her mother was much closer to his age than she… And the thought of Jerry becoming her step-father, becoming unobtainable in yet _another_ way, made her feel as if she couldn't breathe.


	6. Approval

May To December

(A/N: Second up today.)

Approval

_Episode: Totally Busted_

She never thought she would approve. It was odd how things changed. So many mothers were dying for their little girls to get a boyfriend. She was no exception. She wanted Samantha to be happy, and she wanted what was best for her child. Like all mother's, she was protective of her baby. Given these factors, you could imagine how she'd felt when she, Carmen, Stella, and their daughters had fallen randomly through a hole that had appeared on the floor, only to land in a high tech office where a middle aged man had been behind a desk and speaking to their baby girls as if he'd known them for years. She'd judged him to be either forties or in the fifties, banking on the latter. The first thought that had crossed her mind? Who was this man, and what was he doing with secret passages littering their girls' villa? Second thought? Stalker, pervert; but the girls had obviously trusted him with their very lives, their very being. They'd seen _that_ much. They hadn't even shifted when he'd put his hands on their shoulders. She, Stella, and Carmen had begun to accept him in their own time. With acceptance, though, Gabby had begun to notice other things about him. Like the subtle differences between his interactions with Alex and Clover, and his interactions with her daughter… She hadn't spotted them, not at first, but soon she began to see little differences. She'd shaken these off as Sam simply being his favorite spy. Soon enough, that idea began to change. He loved the girls, all of them, but there was more than one type of love. Philia, love such as love for friends. That was what he had for Clover and Alex. As for Sam… she hoped it was Philia as well, but part of her knew otherwise. It certainly wasn't Eros he felt for her; he wouldn't dare; he wasn't the type. She wasn't sure if it was Storge or Agape she suspected more. She hoped that it was all in her head, but then again her daughter was clever. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to trust the girl's judgement this one last time. Besides, goodness knew the man had trust issues _himself_. And to her own shock, she found she _did_ approve. If only a little.

* * *

(A/N: Jerry's age was very ambiguous in the series, never directly stated, not even when his birthday the main B story in one of the episodes. They once referenced him as in his fifties, another time in his sixties, and possibly once in his forties. The only certainty is he was middle aged. That rules out sixties, so I've chalked that up to Clover exaggerating, as middle aged is defined as somewhere between forty and sixty. It is also defined as between forty-five and fifty-four, some other references listing it as between thirty-five to forty-four.

Philia-love one feels for their friends.

Storge-love that grows and develops gradually over time, progressing from friendship to more, usually very tender, caring, and loving.

Agape-self-sacrificing unconditional love.

Eros-'romantic' love as most see love. Fiery, passionate, very intimate, emphasis on physical intimacy. Often seen as a fairy tale romance in which participants are viewed as dreamers.)


	7. Awkward

May To December

(A/N: Third up today.)

Awkward

_Episode: Freaky Circus Much?_

There had been plenty of those so called 'awkward moments.' The least of which was _not_, by any stretch of the imagination, the time she'd fallen into his office covered, _barely_ covered, in only a towel while he had been recording them. Embarrassing still was the fact he never acknowledged its presence, never gave it a thought, until she'd pointed the fact out. He didn't believe he'd looked directly at her again the entire time they were still present. At least not for more than a second. It was the deepest he ever recalled blushing. And of course, right after that, the towel nearly fell off again. The poor girl had been nervous and awkward until he'd decked them out in their spy gear. Recording their Woohping entrances had proven to be an amusing past time. It gave him something to laugh at. Then he'd looked over _that_ recording… He'd noticed things he'd missed before. Things like how the camera had focused in on her for a moment. That wasn't big, he could shake that off as nothing. Not, however, near the beginning when she'd fallen, and the camera had caught more than it had any right to. On seeing this he'd gasped and blushed deeper than ever. That tape had gone directly into the trash. Or so he'd thought. How, then, had it come to be that the tape was back on his desk? Blushing like mad he vowed the person who had replaced it on his desk would be found and told specifically that if something of his was in the trash, it was meant to stay there.


	8. Touch

May To December

(A/N: Fourth up today.)

Touch

_Episode: Totally Busted, Space Much, The New Jerry, Sis-Kaboom-Ba, Unknown Title, and more_

Touch was one of the most powerful human senses. A mere touch could convey more emotion than any number of words, more than any number of expressions. Touch could harm, could pleasure, could calm, could agitate. Touch was the safest method there was for them to communicate more to each other than any number of words could hope to express. Touch could communicate more than even _they_ knew had existed. Her hand on his face had given him the will to fight for life when they had found him captured by Tim Scam, dying of lack of oxygen. A tight and unprovoked hug from him had shocked her, yet her head had spun as he held her then let her go. A hand placed gently on her back when they were gearing up to go out into space to stop the meteors from striking Earth. Yes, she'd felt it, unprovoked. Her stepping forward towards him, her hand reaching out and grasping his, when their mothers had banned them from coming back to him and Woohp. He admitted, he'd held it a little longer than necessary, not letting go until the girls turned to walk away. Back to back battling cheerleaders, drawing courage from one another, and that moment just reaffirmed what he already knew. He would die before he let anything happen to her. She would give her life if it meant saving her bosses. Touch, something neither could ever have with one another beyond what little motions they could scrounge up. Not without being frowned on by society, not without guilt (him) and anxiety (her) eating them up. But they would take what little motions they could get.


	9. Dream

May To December

Dream

_Episode: Totally Spies The Movie_

She still wondered to this day why it had happened. Even years later, she wondered why. Their first meeting with Jerry so long ago, so soon after they first met one another. His declaration he wanted them as spies. They'd been freaked out, had refused, and he'd seemed to graciously accept, giving them a way to communicate with him if ever they changed their minds. Then that night… that night… She'd had a dream. Or was it a nightmare? She wasn't sure anymore. And in it his voice had echoed through her mind. You work for me. You work for Woohp. You will be spies, spies, spies… Those words _still_ echoed through her mind. His image _still_ played over and over, eyes cold and determined, expression stern. You will work for me… You will work for me… She still shivered at the remembrance. Fleeing from him, his eyes everywhere, him always under her, above her, targeting her until she'd woken up with a scream, his words echoing in her mind. You work for me… You work for me. And to this day she firmly believed that even if Woohp hadn't shot her computer with their Woohp virus, she would have called him sooner than later. Yes. She would have called him, because until she had done so, he would never leave her mind. In fact, he never had _since_. So if he was destined to remain there forever, she might as well have him there for a reason. She wouldn't have been able to stand always wondering about the mysterious man behind the desk who had burned himself into her mind from the moment she first saw him. Yes, she would work for Woohp, she would work for _him_. Until the end of time if need be.


	10. An Embarrassment

May To December

(A/N: Clover's POV, second up today)

An Embarrassment

_Episodes: The Fugitives, Passion Patties, The Yuck Factor, Feng Shui Is Like Sooo Passe, Evil Valentine's Day, Head Shrinker Much, 0067, Beauty Is Skin Deep, Like So Totally Not Spies_

It was so totally official; the guy was an embarrassment. Sure he was the head of an international spy organization. Sure he'd once been a jetsetter. Sure he schooled all three of them in piloting and who knew what else. Sure he'd been the one to train them, the one to save them time and time again, the one to do everything for them, but the guy was still an embarrassment. Not only in fashion taste, which was a biggie, might she add, especially regarding costumes, but in getting hit with everything under the sun. The passion patties, the love potion from Myrna, the weird devolving ray thingy, the weirdo makeup that froze people's expressions in place. The guy got into everything. His costumes were so disturbing it wasn't funny. He was rarely gullible, but when he was tricked he fell for them hard. The Feng Shui master, Lumiere the producer, the clones of her Sam and Alex. She still couldn't believe he'd fallen for those when the answers were so obvious.

Sammy… that was a whole different story. Despite all their bosses mess ups, despite all his humiliating and highly questionable choices, Sam still held the utmost respect for him. No matter how he screwed up, what he looked like, it was always respect she showed. She would tease him sure, but always lightly. Even when they'd forgotten who he was she'd treated him tolerably. Even when G.L.A.D.I.S had told them he wasn't the head of Woohp, she'd still wanted to rescue him, save him, go to him to ask him who and what they were. He could have told them anything then, and they'd have no choice to believe him, but Sam had risked it anyway. He could dress in a dress for all she cared, wear makeup, turn into a bloated mess or a love sick imbecile, and she still stayed loyal to him, still respected him, still did everything for him. And to be honest, it was kind of creeping her out. How was it possible for Sam to overlook so many faults? The only boy whose faults _she'd_ ever overlooked was _Blaine_, and then only because she truly and passionately believed she loved him, that he was the one. But Sam and Jerry? Why? Why did she never bother trying to find out the answer? Was it possibly because the truth would just be too… too wrong?


	11. Savior

May To December

(A/N: Alex's POV, third up today.)

Savior

_Episodes: 0067, Sis Kaboom Ba, Arnold The Great, possibly The Dream Teens, and multiple others_

They loved Jerry, they all did. There was no doubt about that. He was great. A great boss and a great friend, most of the time. She, personally, would risk her life for him. They all would. The question was, would she die for him? It hurt her to realize it, but the honest answer was no. No, she didn't think she _would_. She didn't think she _could_. She knew _Clover_ never would. She loved Jerry, but as far as she was concerned he was already over the hill and half way down the other side. Actually, Clover thought he was way _beyond_ the other side. In fact, the only one of them who she recalled ever nearly giving their lives for Jerry was Sam. Now Sam was the type who would give her life for anyone she loved. But Jerry… Jerry was a whole new level. So many times he'd been nearly killed, nearly shot, nearly frozen, nearly destroyed. Sam had stepped in almost every single time. She had placed herself between him and Geraldine's laser. She had placed herself in front of freeze rays, spells, attackers. She was his savior. He would be dead if not for all of Sam's interventions, and she… she would be dead if not for his many rescues as well. Always it was Sam to step in front of Jerry when he was threatened. _Always_. Her and Clover would follow, but Sam was always first, and Alex couldn't figure out why. Why would Sammy give her life for Jerry so often, so willingly? Why did she and Clover _let_ her? And perhaps she knew the answer. It wasn't just loyalty. No way. She and Clover were loyal. Sam was ridiculous. There was something else that kept poking up inside of her, telling her the answer, but she would have none of it. No. But then again, what other explanation _was_ there?


	12. The Tango

May To December

(A/N: Last up today. Occurring between the last battle scene where they lead the villain away, and the ending scene of _Head Shrinker Much_ at the dance. This one was by far the most fun to write, and most likely the best one so far. Probably could have made another one shot out of it even.)

The Tango

_Episode: Head Shrinker Much_

They hadn't meant for it to happen. But she had been so desperate to charm that boy, Rodney or something like that. Cultured, refined, prim and proper, and apparently handsome, according to Sam. He had been impressed when he'd Woohped them and Sam turned her charm lessons on him as a demonstration. He had rather liked the persona, except it reminded him a little too much of his mother, and while it seemed to come naturally to Sam, also didn't seem like the girl he had come to know over the years. He truly hoped that little phase would pass its due course. Then the caveman mission had happened, something he preferred not to look back on and when he did so, did with a shudder. She had come to him afterwards, even after that embarrassment. She spoke of a dance, she told him how she wanted so desperately to impress this Rodney fellow. He wasn't amused. Then she'd mentioned how the tango would be played. He'd asked why on Earth that would concern him, and that's when she'd asked.

Opening up with a shower of praise on how he was so cultured and refined, respectable, noble, and mature, she finally cut to the chase. She'd asked him what the chances were he knew the tango. He'd spewed that cup of coffee out halfway across the room. He'd stammered a reply, something about how he had been an international jetsetter and how of _course_ he knew the tango while blushing deeply. He'd walked right into _that_ one, for the next questioned completely flustered him, left him speechless. She asked if he could teach her and told of her disastrous attempt with Rodney. He'd refused, absolutely not, he hadn't the time for such frivolities; but in actuality, his fear was deeper rooted than that. What if someone walked in on their lesson?

She begged; he told her the tango was one of the single most passionate, sultry, sensual, and seductive dances in the known universe. It was practically an unwritten rule the bodies of the contenders couldn't be so much as an inch apart at any given time with rare exceptions. She was practically brimming over with excitement. Then he'd flatly said that she'd be dancing it with _him_. He hoped that little fact would turn her off. Actually, not entirely true, but you get the picture. No such luck. She paused in shock and blushed deeply. Awkward silence, but then she told him she would be honored, that she didn't care, that a dance was a dance. In a last ditch attempt to turn her away he'd said that some had labelled the tango, well, that unmentionable word on a dance floor. She'd blushed deeper, yet for some reason now seemed even more determined than ever. She was certainly going through a lot of trouble to appease this Rodney. Or so he thought.

So he'd given in. He'd turned on the music and he'd taken her into his arms. He'd named some simpler steps right off as the introduction played, then simply told her to follow his lead. He told her not to try and be graceful; that robotic was fine for the first while and that trying to be graceful had been what led her to step on Rodney's toe. She was reluctant, but agreed, and then the beat began, and he instantly swept her into the steps, labelling each movement from her point of view, telling her exactly what to do and how until soon enough she had it committed to memory, was moving as gracefully as anything, was keeping up to him even pressing him to go faster, so much so that he'd had to tell her he was the leader, she the follower. And from there he had added more, teaching her each step, each fluid movement, each motion he possibly could until they had lost track of time and neither knew what hour it was or how long they'd been at it. All they had known was the sense of their bodies pressing together, entwining, moving in perfect harmony, no reluctance whatsoever in synchronization with the most dare they say it, sexual, dance that had ever been invented.

Everything was a blur, meshed together in an ethereal sense of time and space. And they'd kept dancing, kept moving. She was his, completely submitted to him, surrendering to everything he did, every leading motion he took. She was pressing him, signalling when she wanted more and how much, and he bent to her will. Who was he to refuse? He remembered twirling, swirling, dipping, bodies practically one, her laughing excitedly, whispering humidly, seductively, for him to speed up or show her something else, lips millimeters from his, and then all at once they stopped. Just stopped. Panting for breath, sweating, they just stopped. Their eyes opened and they'd looked at each other for a long moment. Neither knew how long. Then his wallet had beeped. Someone wanted to speak to him. He pulled it out only to hear Clover and Alex worriedly, desperately, telling him they were afraid Sam had been kidnapped. That she'd been gone for hours and hours. Gone all night, in fact, from the moment she left the school to come to Woohp.

It was then they realized how tired they both were. It was then Sam assured her friends she was fine, and they'd been shocked, and he'd just hung ashamedly up before they could press. He and she hadn't looked at each other. They had been silent. It was the most contact either had ever experienced; the closest either had ever been to each other. That was all they could ever have together, the closest thing to… to something more. Finally she'd thanked him, hadn't looked at him, just thanked him. He'd acknowledged it, and without either looking at each other again, she'd walked out. He would soon lose that intimate experience to another if Sam had her way with the boy she was trying to impress. He would lose that dance that had been reserved only for them, that experience that had been meant for the agent and her boss, no one else. He wished her all the luck in the world with the young man and cursed her for it at the same time. After the dance he'd asked her how it had gone. It hadn't happened… It hadn't happened. And she told him it never would. Not with anyone else. That was when she'd first begun to realize he'd ruined her for any other man.


	13. Trust

May To December

(A/N: Four more oneshots to go before I mark this story complete. That doesn't mean I won't necessarily add more to it in time, just that for now I have other things to focus on, such as a longer Totally Spies story. Two, actually. The one that's already almost done isn't centered around Sam and Jerry, and I'm not sure how good it'll be as I haven't had long with it, but I do want to get it up. Hope you've enjoyed these oneshots so far.)

Trust

_Episodes: Jazz Hands Returns Saga_

She'd never known the depth of his faith and trust in her. Not until their secret partnership. She'd never expected how far he'd go for her until Clover and Sam began to figure things out, or how closely they were bound together in this unbelievable scheme of theirs until he'd Woohped her away from them and hidden her barely a second after she'd called him in for a red alert, throwing them off her tail by sending her friend's on a bogus mission. They had plotted together, kept secrets from her teammates, and when she'd felt guilty and uncertain, sneaking away at sunset to talk to him, she saw the depth of how much he cared. She'd gone to him upset, told him she didn't want to keep something so big from them, that she felt guilty. She didn't want to lie anymore. He'd taken her hand and he'd apologized for pulling her into this whole mess. He'd told her he understood her hesitation, her fear, her guilt and uncertainty. She'd asked him why it had been her he'd chosen, and he'd answered her saying it was because she was the only one he would ever, _could_ ever, fully entrust this mission to; that she was the only one of the three he put full faith in. Alex couldn't keep a secret, and Clover… Well, that should be a given. He'd told her he wouldn't force her to continue, that if she wanted to stop, he would put another agent on the case. She had shot down that offer, said this time it was personal, and she had told him she was honored. She now knew he was the only one she would ever deceive Clover and Alex for. She never regretted it, whether or not she would ever do anything like this again.


	14. Boss

May To December

(A/N: Second up today.)

Boss

_Episodes: Evil Promotion Much, The New Jerry, So Totally Not Spies_

A boss was the one you worked for, the one you listened to and took direction from. It was a boss's job to make sure his employees were safe and protected from workplace hazards. Spying was at the top of the list, as far as she was concerned, the workplace hazards more numerous than any other job she could think of. Jerry was a good boss, excellent. There was nothing more important to him than the safety and well-being of his agents. Her, Clover, and Alex especially. In fact, there were times she found herself believing he may just be _too_ good. It scared her more than anything ever had. He would die for them, bend rules for them, do anything for them. He already almost had. When they'd gone after Terrance, for instance.

The plan was brilliant, fool proof, but he'd neglected to tell them one key detail. He wouldn't be wearing the bungee cable when he fell from the bridge and plunged into the river. That wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to survive the fall. He wasn't supposed to drown. They had wept for him that day. She had wept for him. Wept bitterly and vowed with very real passion to avenge him. They could risk turning on Terrance to save Dean; it was too late for their boss. They thought he was dead… Imagine their shock when he returned alive and well in order to save them. They'd demanded to know why, he'd told them it was because their reactions to his demise had had to be real to fool Terrance. Oh she could have slapped him the moment those words left his mouth. Slapped him with all her strength and burst into angry tears. Real? _Real_? Oh their reactions had been real all right. He didn't know the half of it. Was he aware of what he'd put them through? He'd apologized, but did he really know? If anything had happened to him… She would never have forgiven herself.

He would be there for her always, no matter what, protecting and defending his agents, her, and she found she would never trust anyone but him to do so. Even when others had gone under the guise of the head of Woohp, G.L.A.D.I.S, for instance, it wasn't them she trusted. She'd been tempted to once. Tim Scam going under the name Mac Smit, was no exception. She hated to admit it, but she'd developed quite the crush on him. Nonetheless, he wasn't Jerry. He wasn't the boss that had saved their lives numerous times, protected them and helped them, the one they'd come to trust almost implicitly. She believed soon enough they would come to trust this young new boss. After all, Jerry wouldn't leave just anyone in charge. Her faith in the young man had begun to wane, however, the moment the credit cards he'd given them turned into whirling weapons of destruction and mayhem. Not a problem, things happened, it's not like stuff like this hadn't happened under Jerry. It had faded more, though, when the car he let them ride blew up, almost killing them in the process. She wasn't above thinking then that if Jerry had been in control, this never would have happened. Not twice in a row. Not within such close proximity to each other. Neither were Alex or Clover.

She trusted her boss with everything she was, everything she'd ever had, everything she knew and loved. There was no replacement for Jerry Lewis, no matter _how_ you cut the cake. She found very quickly that she never _wanted_ there to be. He was everything to Woohp, to them, to _her_. And she hoped and prayed every passing day for his safety, that he would never leave them. The true depth of that prayer could only be realized and appreciated when one understood that Jerry Lewis would never _ever_ leave them of his own accord. Oh no. Only death would pry their boss from their lives. Please, any immortal being that may or may not exist, don't let death take him. Don't let them suffer that loss again, for if ever he truly did die, all the pains, all the heartache's she'd ever experienced in her life, would pale in the wake of his true demise.


	15. May To December

May To December

(A/N: Third up today.)

May To December

_Episode: Totally Dunzo_

She'd accepted it, he'd accepted it. There was no more denying anything anymore. How could they? If anyone had asked her if ever she could see herself in a May to December romance, she would have laughed, said no, said the mere thought disgusted her. If anyone had asked him if he had ever seen himself with a younger woman, he would have lost it on them completely. How dare they ask him such a thing when there were so many perfectly lovely women his own age? No more. Time had changed all that. Time seemed to change a lot. More than either of them had ever known. Now if anyone asked her if she were in a May to December romance… she would say yes. Yes, she was involved with an older man, even if _he_ didn't know it yet. No, she didn't regret a moment of it, she wasn't appalled, wasn't fearful. Now if anyone asked him if he had fallen for a younger woman, he would say yes, though she herself may not know. He wouldn't deny it, not anymore. Yes, there were times he felt like a monster, like society was right to look down on him, but no he wouldn't change it for the world. Perhaps nothing more would come of it than what already had, but it didn't matter, not to them, not anymore. Life may bring them down different paths, might force them to finally let go of one another, but that love would always remain, for all eternity, and neither would give it up.


	16. Tender

May To December

(A/N: Fourth up today. This is another one I probably could have turned into a standalone oneshot. It's a bit more risky than any of the others I've written so far, hence the reason it's at the end. It's probably not as bad as I think, but if it offends anyone I apologize in advance. It's the reason I'm switching the rating to T.)

Tender

_Episode: Set after Evil Pizza Guys and other European episodes_

It had been cold, freezing in fact. Could you blame her? She certainly couldn't stay in _her_ room, heat broken, window stuck open. Clover and Alex's were full. She hadn't had a choice. At least, that's what she kept telling herself as she made her way down the corridor towards her destination. Wrapped in a white silk housecoat over a light satin nightdress, her feet gently padded along, hardly making a sound. She prepared to knock on the door then paused. She supposed that the romance of Europe did things to people, but _this_? Perhaps… perhaps she could tough it out in her room. A cold breeze blew and she shivered. The wind cut through her. She knew she should have taken his advice on what to pack. Part of her screamed go back, go back; the other part told her to press on, and for once she took the road less travelled. She let her less logical half rule her and knocked lightly.

There was no sound. Perhaps he was asleep? She hoped so, yet at the same time prayed he wasn't. Then the door opened and he stood there, sleepily rubbing an eye. She'd expected some sort of night clothing and a night cap, but not this. Her breath caught in her throat. His upper body was bare; revealing the muscles underneath that one would never guess he'd had beneath the neat suit he usually wore. They were toned and powerful, not bulky in the least yet she'd seen young men who weren't built as well. The lower part of his body was covered in pants. Breathing in deeply, as if just being awoken, he spoke. "Sam, what is it?"

"I-I'm cold," she finally managed to stammer. I'm cold? What sort of reply was _that_?

He looked at her blankly, raised a curious eyebrow. The wind blew and she shivered again. His suspicious gaze softened. "And…?" he questioned, prompting her.

"Can I… can I stay here?" she inquired, and he stiffened, eyes becoming fearful, uncertain, nervous.

"I'm sure Clover and Alex…" he'd begun.

She'd cut him off, saying, "There's no room. Please, Jerry." It hadn't taken a genius to tell that he didn't know what to do. He was completely lost, completely taken aback. How could he possibly respond to her plea? He certainly couldn't turn her away. Least of all when she shivered again as the wind blew, and he felt himself how cold it had become outside. She knew all of this and she waited for his response.

Finally, wordlessly, he'd moved away from the door and gestured her inside. She'd smiled softly, gratefully, and gone inside. She looked around. It was small, the room. The only furniture in sight was the one bed. He went to it and he took an extra blanket from its foot. He spread it on the floor and knelt, saying, "Take the bed."

Her eyes became concerned. She hadn't meant for _this_ to happen. "Jerry, I couldn't."

"Well you certainly shant be sleeping on the floor," he answered.

"Neither will you," she had replied firmly, and she had been stubborn. He had argued, but she refused to address him, refused to move from her spot until he'd finally put the blanket back on the bed, put out, and folded his arms, unimpressed at her tenacity. She avoided meeting his eyes. She hadn't wanted to see the stern and cold gaze he was shooting her. She wondered herself why she hadn't allowed him the victory, why she'd been so firm and unyielding to his demands, but there was no turning back now. She undid her housecoat and she heard him whisper something under his breath. She let it slip gradually from her shoulders and shyly glanced up at him. His arms were no longer folded, and he was staring at her, eyes wide, mouth agape in disbelief. Surely this wasn't happening.

She saw him quickly force the very idea away and close his mouth, eyes becoming guarded again, hardened in some sort of preservation action that threw up his every defense. And really, she couldn't blame him. Later she would question _herself_ why she had chosen it for a night she'd _known_ would be freezing cold. She'd known her heat wasn't working, had other options, yet she'd chosen this one, a gown from Rome. It was pale green, strapless, lace around the top of it revealing more than the already low cut nightdress already showed. Not immodest, oh no, but it definitely wasn't non provocative either. It was only a few inches above her knees, she told herself. It had a low, low cut back. Reviewing her choice that night now, she felt slightly guilty she had gone to him like that. She didn't regret it, but there was guilt.

He'd cleared his throat and looked quickly away, blushing deeply. He'd crawled into the bed, under the covers. There was no invitation. If anything he appeared as if he was afraid. For a moment she wanted to turn back, but the thought of the cold conquered her. At least, that's what she told herself. She crawled over top of him. He desperately tried not to look up at her. He never turned around as she settled beneath the blankets next to him. He didn't dare. But her bare back made contact with his warm flesh, her bare legs pressed against his, and she felt him shiver, heard his breathing speed up as if it were painful for him to be here. She was settled, though, and disinclined to leave. It was then she noticed herself shiver as well. By the gods, he was so close to her, and she became afraid. Not of him. Never of him. He wouldn't try or do anything. He was stronger than that, but of what _she_ might do. Experimenting, seeing how far or how close she could come before he finally broke; but she couldn't do that to him. She wouldn't. That would be too torturous. It was torturous for her to resist it _already_.

He fell asleep. She didn't. Sleep had been the only way he could block everything out, could calm his overwhelmed sensed. Not so for her. She was too busy digesting where she was, relishing the experience. She finally turned her back to him once more, trying again to sleep, and he rolled over, groaning meekly as if suffering some nightmare. She fought back her worry, the urge to wake him and spare him the night terror. Then his arm was around her waist. His body was pressed against her back, his face in her hair breathing steadily, still asleep, and her heart began to pound, her stomach began to flip. So close… So close and he didn't realize. He would hate himself in the morning if she told him, so she would stay quiet. He had gone through enough.

She felt her eyelids closing and turned to him so now both their fronts were against each other. Her bare leg somehow slowly brushed his, moved onto his, slid leisurely up wrapping around him. He shivered in sleep. Her arms wrapped around his body, her face against his neck and chest. So innocent, yet so guilty at the same time. Neither was aware, him asleep, her in the stage between sleep and wakefulness, and neither had control of how their bodies meshed together in some sort of blissful pose that had come about by complete chance, not through any means of an 'encounter' so to speak. There was no control when she raised her head up, baring her slender neck, and his lips brushed the soft skin and remained.

The morning would reveal the truth to them. The moment the Roman sunrise roused them from innocent slumber they would know. They would wake around the same time, and neither would move from their positions though both would know the other was awake. A forbidden desire, shunned by society, rejected by so many, a love, a romance, that would never be no matter how they wanted it. Not without a deep cost to them both. But they wouldn't move, and finally he would close his eyes tightly, holding back tears, and kiss her pale neck lightly, moving his head away. Her tears she wouldn't bother trying to hide; and she would sob, burying her face in his chest and neck, shaking her head in denial. They would look into each other's eyes, regret haunting both. He would stroke her hair so lovingly, so tenderly, and she would know then without doubt that he loved her. She would know then he had ruined her for any other man, that she loved him. They would know that the moment they left each other this event would be unmentionable, never to be addressed again, would be as if it never existed; and it hurt, badly. But that wasn't now. He gently caressed her leg, hand moving lightly up and down her thigh. She stroked his chest drawing invisible pictures, and they would suddenly stop, suddenly look at each other, and he would tilt her chin towards him. They would kiss gently, tenderly, cradling one another.

It was over… just over… He pulled away from her, crawling out of the bed though she held onto him until she couldn't any longer. He threw on a shirt, went to her housecoat and picked it up. He handed it to her, and she stood, wrapped it about her body, looked once more longingly into his eyes, and she silently left the room, him watching painfully after her.


End file.
